In Loving Memoriam

Aunt Sara is gone.

The reality is there, echoing down the recesses of my mind, lodging behind the lump in my throat, but it still doesn't seem right.

We knew it was coming, knew that after a three year battle with cancer, the disease was taking it's final toll, and we even had the mercy of getting to hold her hand and say Good-bye, but I still want to turn back the hands of the clock and find her sitting on the couch at a family gathering, her good humor filling the room.

Aunt Sara was a grandmother figure, and especially so since by the time I married into the family, Wesley's paternal Grandmother, Aunt Sara's mother, was already gone. She, therefore, made it her business to love and bless her extended family in a way that succeeded in endearing herself to all of us.

It is therefore no mystery why we will miss her so very much.

There were the homemade cards to celebrate birthdays, anniversaries, and new arrivals. And these weren't just any homemade cards, but ones often made using her own photography. There were the birthday gifts chosen with care, like the very pretty tea cup & saucer she gave me for my last birthday, knowing that I like such things. There were the Christmas brunches held at her house, with special foods and impeccably- wrapped presents.

And there were the dolls. Maybe it was because Aunt Sara was a Lady, born and bred in the South, maybe it was because her mother was a Lady and loved all things feminine, or maybe it was because she was an only daughter with three brothers, but Aunt Sara had a large and beautiful doll collection, which she started when she was a young girl. Many of these dolls were displayed in special cases at her home, some were in storage, some were antiques or had been acquired from other countries, some of them she had made herself, and all of them, it would appear, had a story.

When it became apparent that she might not live much longer, Aunt Sara wanted to start passing the dolls out so they could be treasured by family members after she was gone, and she invited me to come and pick one out.

I will always cherish the memory of that visit this past spring, when Aunt Sara showed me dolls in about three different cases, told me various stories of how they came to her, and allowed me to choose one that hadn't already been spoken for. And when Aunt Sara saw the look on Elasa's face as she admired the dolls with me, she told her she could choose one, too, so we came home that day with two family treasures.

Aunt Sara's attention to detail and her generous spirit in the final months of life were very special, but really they were an extension of the characteristics already in place. Characteristics that were built over years of refinement and, when put to the final fire, came forth as gold.

Aunt Sara paying her first visit to  Elasa when she was only 2 days old.

I don't have a picture of Aunt Sara holding Gavin when he was a baby,
but here is Gavin at her house on his first Christmas, and in the background,
you can see one of the cases of dolls.

Aunt Sara holding Parker as a newborn.

Aunt Sara holding Finley exactly 11 months ago. Finley's middle name, Reid, was chosen
in part to honor Uncle Fred & Aunt Sara, whose last name is Reed.

When our family went to visit Aunt Sara at her home one last time less than two weeks before she died, she had just been released from the hospital under hospice care, and was very weak and bed ridden. Her spirit, however, still shone strong, and in true Aunt Sara fashion, she asked me about my bog and writing, something she always enjoyed and encouraged me in from the beginning. She also took note of how Finley enjoyed one of her little board books, and at the end of our visit, she remembered that and said she wanted him to take it home.

Aunt Sara finished her race strong, her love for the Lord and her family and friends a beacon of light that even cancer couldn't snuff out, and at her funeral today, I expect that truth to bring consolation in the face of this parting.

I will miss Aunt Sara as a very special aunt. Her husband, Fred, will miss his wife of 58 years (they were married when she was only 17!) Her two children will miss their mother; her grandchildren their grandma. My father-in-law, Wesley, Sr., will miss his only sister. Many will miss her as their friend, church member, and sister in the Lord.

And yet we do not grieve as those who have no hope, for just beyond the veil, Aunt Sara has been made whole, and there, in the very presence of her Savior, she has turned to face a Brand New Day.